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perfect. Todd gave Cassie a taste of his shrimp so she could see if she could identify the secret ingredient.
    “Turmeric, rosemary—and there’s another spice too, but I’m not sure what it is,” she said. “Maybe coriander?” She was far from certain. “Not cumin. Not cardamom. Not celery seed or mustard seed.”
    “Have another taste,” Todd urged, and she gladly took another nibble from his fork, but she still couldn’t be sure.
    “Well, I’ll try it again at home with turmeric, rosemary, and coriander,” he said.
    “Want to taste mine? Turnabout is fair play,” Cassie offered, proffering a forkful of lobster Newburg toward him.
    Todd held up a hand in a “stop” motion. “Thanks, but I’ve had the lobster Newburg here before. It’s wonderful and you’ll love it, but I don’t need a taste.” He smiled at her. “Do you want another bite of my shrimp?”
    “Well, yes, but no thanks. I mean, I could eat the whole thing up, but I don’t want to run out of room for my lobster. I’ll pass.”
    They fell silent, occasionally commenting on how good their dinners were but otherwise focusing on their food rather than conversation. Neither one could finish the whole dinner. There was some of everything left over when they both said, “Uncle!” and put their utensils down. There was shrimp, lobster, rice, potatoes, peas, and salad.
    Max had already returned once to inquire if everything was all right, and now he returned to ask, “Do you want to take home the leftovers?”
    “Yes, please,” Todd replied.
    “Dessert? Coffee?” Max inquired.
    Todd looked at Cassie, who gave a short laugh and shook her head.
    “Just the check, please,” Todd requested.
    Max returned in a few minutes with the check and a large bag imprinted with POOCH-PAK FROM MORGANA’S. TOO GOOD FOR FIDO . Reading the legend on the bag, Todd said, “I’ll say! Even if I had a dog, he wouldn’t get these.” Then, to Cassie, “Why don’t you take home all of it? You can have a little more of the shrimp that way.”
    “Oh no, I couldn’t,” she protested, but he said, “I insist. Don’t fight me. You’ll lose. It’ll make a grand lunch. Just heat everything up except the salad.”
    “Thank you,” she said graciously, placing the Pooch-Pak on her side of the table.
    Max returned with the check, and Todd pulled out his debit card. “I don’t like to run up a big credit card bill,” he said to Cassie. “That way I can pay it in full when the bill comes, and I don’t have to pay interest.”
    Cassie mentally chalked up another point in Todd’s favor.
    They returned to Todd’s apartment, and Cassie stuck her leftovers in his fridge. “Don’t let me forget to take these home,” she said.
    “If you forget, you can get them tomorrow.”
    “Tomorrow?”
    “I thought I’d take you to the jazz club tomorrow. How does that sound?”
    For a minute Cassie thought of the laundry she had to do and the fact that her place needed cleaning. Then she said, “Sure.” Going to the jazz club with Todd—or doing anything with Todd—was more appealing than doing laundry or housecleaning.
    They were standing in the kitchen. Todd bestowed a kiss on Cassie’s nose, then kissed his way to her ear, where he gave up kissing in favor of nibbling. He nibbled at her earlobe, then thrust his tongue in and out of her ear in rapid, insistent fuck-motions. Speaking in a low, compelling voice, he said, “I promised I’d work some of those calories off you. Let’s go to bed.”
    “Why, sir,” she jested coyly in a super-sweet voice, “I suspect you of harboring dishonorable intentions.”
    “You’ve got that right,” he growled.
    “Good,” she said in her normal voice and whirled around quickly to exit the kitchen and head for the bedroom.
    They each undressed. Todd pulled the covers back. Cassie plopped onto the edge of the bed and swung her feet up onto the sheet. She moved over to make room for Todd, who kissed her deeply and